


Untitled

by maebyrutherford (maeberutherford)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 14:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7895959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeberutherford/pseuds/maebyrutherford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying out a new brainiac bespectacled Inquisitor named Emma. Just a little sumpin-sumpin written quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

“Varric, for the last time,” she said, brushing the horse’s tangled mane, “I think you’re confusing your romance novels with real life. He’s not interested in me in the slightest, or anyone else, for that matter. The man loves his work, that’s all.”

Varric shook his head and leaned against the stable post. “I’m telling you, I’m very perceptive. It’s my trade. And I know Curly better than anyone here.”

Emma sighed, inspecting a tough knot in the mare’s silver hair through her spectacles. The steed snorted, as if to confirm that she also wanted the knot gone. “So you’ve said, several times. Tell me; do you _really_ know him?”

Varric looked taken aback. “Of course I do. We only lived through the downfall of Kirkwall together, for cryin’ out loud.”

“Yes yes, chantry explosion, templars and mages run amok, and you two were at the center. I’ve read the Tale of the Champion. But did you two ever actually spend time together? Chat over tea, or beer? Talk about your hopes and dreams?”

“Well… not _exactly_ ,” Varric said, “but I was around him quite a bit. Hawke had to frequently check in with him when she was busy cleaning up Kirkwall’s messes.”

Emma finally worked out the tangle and waved the brush at Varric. “Check in, you say? So you claim to know this man so well because what, you happened to be there when he and Hawke talked business?”

Varric straightened. “Well - no, there were other times. We fought together once - no, twice. And!” His eyes lit up as he raised a finger. “And, we traveled here together with Cassandra.”

“Oh, you mean the infamous voyage across the Waking Sea, during which our Commander spent the entire time bent over the railing? I’m sure you two had _plenty_ of time to get cozy then.” Emma grasped her hips and cocked her head at her friend, not even trying to hide her amusement. “You forget, Cassandra tells me everything.”

Varric threw up a hand. “All right - fine, maybe we’re not the _best_ of friends, but I do know what a man looks like when he’s got it bad, and I’m telling you, he’s head over heels for you. Maybe he doesn’t even realize it yet but it’s there, trust me.” He crossed his arms. “Damn, remind me never to exaggerate around you again.”

She giggled as the horse munched on treats from the palm of her hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it! My mother always said I didn’t have much of an imagination. I guess I get it from my father; head for logic and reason, and all that.” She stroked the mare’s nose. “But I really do think you’re wrong about him. Maybe you’re picking up on something else when you see this supposed _adoration_ in his eyes when he looks at me?”

She approached the dwarf and wiped her hands on her trousers. “Think about it - his last boss was a raving lunatic, right? Perhaps he’s simply grateful to be working under someone he can respect.” She nodded at her own theory. “Yes, I’d surmise that’s all it is. So maybe you can stop trying to turn this into fodder for your next book, hm?”

“Okay, smartypants, if it’s just ‘respect’, then how do you explain… uh, ah, nevermind.” He averted his eyes and tugged on his ponytail.

She raised a brow. “Varric, you can’t just say something like that and not elaborate! Tell me. Now.”

He sighed. “Shit. Me and my big mouth.” He looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Look, it’s not my place to say anything. All I can tell you is, the man is dealing with a lot more than you know. Have you noticed the tremors?”

Emma’s smug grin began to fall and twinge of worry tugged at her chest. She _had_ noticed his hands shaking sometimes when he reached out across the war table but she’d chalked it up to a lack of sleep and too much coffee. None of them were getting much shut-eye lately.

“I guess so. I didn’t think it was anything serious. Is… is he all right?”

“Like I said, it’s not my place. I only found out by accident. I’m sure he’ll tell you in due time. You only just became the Inquisitor, after all.”

He took a step closer. “Emma, he _stills_ when you’re around. I’ve seen it. And trust me, that’s not nothing.”

The two friends stood there outside the stables, Emma rubbing her arm and staring at the ground, reconsidering everything she thought she knew about her place in the Inquisition and one person in particular, and Varric silently cursing his blabbermouth.

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I should go, think I’ve done enough damage for one day. I may have gotten a little carried away and stuck my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Emma squeezed his shoulder. “No, it’s all right. Truthfully, I appreciate your meddling. If I seem oblivious it’s because I’ve never - well, this is all new territory for me.” She let out a short, loud laugh and rubbed the back of her neck.

Varric started to turn away, when he stopped in his tracks. “Wait, are you saying you’ve never had a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Been in love?”

She blushed. “No. And please don’t make fun of me! I don’t know why - my mother says I’m too intimidating. I’ve never met anyone interesting, anyway, so it’s probably for the best.”

Varric smirked. “Do you find the Commander ‘interesting’?”

She adjusted her spectacles and peered down at him. “I didn’t,” she lied, a ghost of a grin on her lips, “until now.”

**Author's Note:**

> If I get interest in Emma I might write more. I wrote this some time ago but now I'm thinking it might be more interesting to give her another job within the Inquisition?


End file.
